Out in the Dark I hear you calling
by alighttheflames
Summary: When Stiles 'wakes up' in a place full of darkness, its confusing for just a few moments before the meaning hits him. Now its up the the Pack and his father to try and figure out what has happened to him while he tries to become use to what his 'life' is going to be, even if its changing faster then he ever thought it would.
1. Wake up, I said Wake up!

The world was nothing but swirling ink, shifting between deep black and oil slick purples and greens, cloying and clinging myrrh chocked the air, and Stiles knew with out a doubt that he was dead. Furrowing his brow he tried to think back on how he got here, to this dark, and hopefully empty world, but all he could remember was being in his room and hearing a noise down stairs.

Stiles knew, deep inside himself where there seemed to be flickering bits of light that shed out to the rest of this depressing place, that if he hadn't been a part of the supernatural this isn't where he would have ended up. Deaton had been shoving book after book at him in the wake of the news that there was an Alpha pack coming, and in those books it spoke of the other sides, and being the researcher he was he had looked into things. Being a _Spark_ meant that while he was human, his soul wasn't, well it was until it was awoken and after that there was no going back to where he had been before, magic would creep in slowly before taking over his life as the light inside him grew. It was almost fitting that he was in a place so dark when he was usually so bright.

He wondered, idly as he started walking forwards, his body casting a silver glow that made him think of bad B flick movies with ghost, if he would ever remember how he actually died, his father was probably beside himself in grief and it stirred something inside him briefly. But considering he didn't remember the feeling of even really "waking up" in this place, it was a moment of just knowing, and seeing and feeling the oppressiveness of this world around him pressing in from all sides un relenting in its persistence that made everything click into place, that he would never really know.

There was no telling how long he wondered, time didn't seem to hold much meaning or sway over him anymore and there was really no way to tell, all this place seemed to be was a inky pit of darkness. The only way he could tell that time was indeed passing was a rhythmic pull that centered deep in his gut, a place he didn't really want to look at, because he was afraid of what he would see.

_'Was it your guts or your heart? Either way they are awfully pretty._


	2. I wasnt so use to this

If there was one thing that John Stilinski learned with having a child like Stiles, it was that waking up to having the front door wide open and a cell phone carelessly thrown to the ground was not something to worry out per say.

It could be anything from Stiles was walking down the steps and got distracted by a way the shadow was depicted on the grass, to he had forgotten to close the door in his rush off to somewhere and his phone had fallen out of his pocket. Hell he had watched his son go from talking about anything and everything to following a bird back to its nest four miles away and trying to climb a tree to get a better look, there was no telling what could be going through that thick skull, and at most he just had to hope that he had taken his medication.

Like it or not, he had to just hold in a sigh and close up the door after his son and shoot a text towards Scott to tell him when Stiles reemerged into the real world, that he should pass along that he had once again forgotten his phone at home and he should call back when ever he could. Also he made a mental note to go upstairs where he knew the pill bottle would be hidden, underneath what ever research had caught Stiles attention long enough that he went on a binge that made hours of his life vanish summer and school time alike. Or that would have been what he would do, if not for the fact that the Jeep, a rust bucket that drove/stayed together with the hopes and dreams of small children and duck tape, was still parked where it had been when he had come in from his shift.

John just hoped that Stiles had once again become entranced by the clouds and what ever else there was outside that could hold his attention for longer then three seconds before it was filed away. He just had to hope that what ever he was doing was safe and that he wouldn't have to buy another new set of shirts because the others had been ruined by lords know what, one had smelled like a mix between the vets office and a palm reading parlor with musky incense that had bright citrus mixed in, while another had looked like something with claws had ripped easily through the fabric, the lack of blood had kept him from raising any questions.

John knew that other parents would question that kind of thing, that they would question the large leather bound books that now took up almost all the free space of his sons room, and the odd smells and sounds in the middle of the night. The murmuring like someone was talking at all hours of the day and rambling that followed every question asked, a elaborate story pulled from thin air and spun and woven together with hardly a thought, but John knew his son. He knew that if there was something that Stiles was getting to far into, that if it was something he thought his father was better off knowing, then it would be shoved so far back that John would never see, so he just had to wait.

One day he would be brought in and then he would know what everything was about and he would have to just hold back yet another sigh because it would be something silly. Until then he would just have to sit on the sidelines and keep the kid in check and make sure he didn't float to far away from real life.

Well that and ground Stiles for leaving the door open for who knows how many hours, not that he counted on it lasting for long, as much as it pained him, he wasn't home enough to enforce the punishment.

So he did what he was planning on doing today anyway, he gathered the case files and a bag of chips, and set down to working through some of the paper work that seemed to haunt his very being while enjoying a forbidden snack.

He was a grown man and there was nothing to say he couldn't eat the food his money went towards and he would be damned if he got scolded for eating these. Knowing his luck Stiles would either show up right now, loud and all limbs that could never seem to be in the right place when they were directed, or he wouldn't see his son for two days.

It wasn't until four hours later, two message beeps and one missed call, that John resurfaced from his work, a stretch and a quick walk to the kitchen, had him unlocking the screen, the password was always the same, to check and see what they said.

_GrumpyCat 2:35pm: You're late._

_GrumpyCat 5:46pm : Meetings over. Next one is in two days, be sure not to miss this one. _

_ Missed call from: PuppyeyedRomeo 7:12pm_

If John didn't know his son better he would be worried about the names all his contacts were under, there was even one labeled Catwoman-call at own risk, but if there had been actual names then that meant that someone had taken over his phone and rewritten then all just so they knew who they were calling. Stiles even had his under SecretAgentman, which he didn't know why but it was still amusing at the very least.

Though it would be a little while for him to figure out who GrumpyCat was, there was no telling at all with out cross checking numbers from his own phone PuppyeyedRomeo was Scott, meaning that his son was either with him all day and forgot something, or that Scott had just now noticed that Stiles wasn't over with him while he went puppy eyed.

Either that or to tell Stiles to get more food before he forgot that Stiles didn't actually have his phone on him, there was no telling with those two, and there was no voicemail so he was willing to bet that it was about food or a forgotten item.

It just meant that John could get away with the regular hamburger he was about to go buy, with extra cheese and bacon, because a grounded Stiles was a mothering Stiles who couldn't glare him into submitting about what he was eating, and the fact that he shouldn't be actually eating what ever it was.

He just wished that Stiles would get a hold of him soon because, as much as he always wanted to believe that his son was just fine, there was always a low level burn of worry seated deep in his gut, and there was nothing that could make it go away until he saw his son running around like a magpie chasing something shinny. All the same he had work to do and there was no point in worrying, not with how often his son was away more then likely coming home to stop a full on police search.

Shuffling papers and reports together, grabbing yet another soda to keep him tided over while he went though all this crap that seemed to spring up during summer because teenagers had nothing better to do then cause trouble, the Sherriff settled back down to work.

John hadn't meant to fall asleep over his paper work, he really hadn't, it usually had him waking up with a unusual crick in his neck and a sour temper. One that was about to take a sharper turn as he struggled to sit up to see who was digging around his kitchen, it couldn't be Stiles because lord knew that kid would be quiet when his father was sleeping even if John didn't know how he managed it half the time.

Though he must be getting just a shade of too old to sleep at the table because the very act of standing had his back up in a riot. Next time he would keep a better watch on the time, there was nothing he could do right now but semi awkwardly shuffle towards the kitchen.

What he found there shouldn't have surprised him, Scott was currently rummaging through the fridge, a piece of cold cut ham stuffed in his mouth only slightly hanging out the side. In the last few moths the teens need to eat everything in sight had doubled and John was almost glad his son didn't have the same problem if it wasn't for the side effects of his medicine.

"When did you two get in?" John asked, grinning as he watched the teen jump his hand hovering over some string cheese, eyes wide and guilty, before leaning on the door frame to try and sooth the strain in his back. Scott just gulped, before bring a hand up to pull the mauled meat out of his mouth so he could talk with out looking like a complete caveman.

"Two? I came over because Stiles missed Bro time, thought he got caught up on the internet or playing a game so I came to drag him out...I just uh...wanted to eat something first."

"You mean to tell me that my son hasn't been with you?" John asked straightening his body, a new type of tension filling his form, "When's the last time you saw him?"

"Uh...two or so days ago? He texted me the other night about us hanging out, we were going to hang yesterday with some others but he didn't show and we all thought he was you know..." Scott waved his hands in a slight circle, little bits of ham flew about and John had to resist the urge to raise his eyebrow at the little show.

"You weren't worried that he didn't come?" The teen just shook his head taking a chunk out of the meat, his eyes held that kicked puppy look that made the Sherriff fell bad for a few moments. "His phone was outside, and the door was open yesterday morning, I thought he got distracted before meeting up with you."

"Like that one time with the birds right? Oh, and that balloon once."

"Exactly." John reached up to rub the area between his eyes feeling a slight twitch take its place, nothing was ever easy with that kid. "Do you know anyone he would have gone to see?"

"Nah all the people he talks to were all gathered last night, none of us had seen him all day. He wasn't in the preserve either."

"I wish I could just say this was a moment of lapsed thinking but..."

"Someone has always found him before he got to far right? I'll call the others up and we can go looking for him around town if you want, I mean all I was going to do today was have Bro time so looking for my said Bro wont be too much of a change."

"I'll go check all the usual places, and keep out of trouble Scott, I don't want you trespassing to look for Stiles and getting a call in because I have to haul you away." John stated as sternly as he could, all he was rewarded with was another wounded puppy look that all but screamed 'Who me? I would never!'

All in all he wasn't excited to be using his day to try and chase after his son, who once found was going to get a stern talking to about the importance of keeping people informed of where he was at all times. Scott was already typing away on his cell, one hand was forming words while the other helped him worry more on the ham.

John just hoped that Stiles was in his usual place, a little clearing that he use to sit in and watch the sun play over the leaves or something else equally fascinating that would keep him there for hours until he passed out only to wake up and do the same thing.

Which reminded him that he was going to have to have a talk with Stiles doctors about his medication if all it did was sometimes keep him hopping like a bunny on too much sugar anyway. John just added it to his mental list of things to do while he made his way upstairs.

Scott could let himself out, he had already let himself in after all, and while he was awake, John wasn't in the mood to keep talking, not with the low blooming worry settling in his gut.

As the Sherriff his mind skipped right to all the worst possible scenarios, and as a father he tried to shield his thoughts from them. Because his son was not going to become a statistic, he was not missing, or laying hurt and broken somewhere. He was just lost because he got distracted and that was what John was going to believe until he had proof otherwise.

!

Sorry that I have no beta but I am pretty sure I got everything...also next chapter is on its way...the snow is making my house cold so the only safe and warm place is by my computer.

No promises for when my FFXIV finishes updating though.


	3. Is there a playlist for this?

There comes a point in time when singing 99 bottles of beer on the wall is your only outlet for boredom, it was something only the most desperate of people would turn to in a time of need, but the counter to that was the fact that no matter what Stiles tried, his voice wouldn't come out.

There was no sound coming out of his mouth, even as he went through the motions of singing, he hadn't stopped since he started 34 bottles back after the initial panic. Stiles had gone from thinking this place was limbo to thinking it was one of the circles of hell. He was also in the camp of not thinking about it because if he thought about it then...

He wasn't going to go there...not at all, roll on to the next topic brain roll on!

Stiles was getting really tiered of seeing the same thing for vast stretches of time. For someone who was used to a overabundance of outside stimuli this yawning black world of nothing set his teeth on edge. That and the ever present tug/pull sensation that was centered behind his navel, a place he still wasn't looking along, he was only a little proud of this, not bringing a hand up to feel along his neck to check and see why his voice wasn't working. He was going to stay in denial about both, thank you very much and still on the not going there train to nowhere land.

Pushing the song, still going and on bottle number 56, a small miracle because he usually got to 90 and gave up, to a different section of his brain while he kept shuffling along. His steps not even really making noise other then a soft shuffling now and again, which was kinda creepy but hey! It was a noise outside of his mind and he wasn't having to try and lip sync it like a bad singer on stage, and let his eyes scan the shifting pattern. Some times the oil slick would form shapes, moths were a popular one about 12 bottle back, and now it was something vaguely small and furry.

The internal Wiki that took up a scarily large portion of his brain, if he thought really heard he even had a search bar he had spent so much time on that site, ran though a few animals before spitting out Mustela putorious furo, or ferret for short.

He would have just called them long skunks because they smelled funny, but at least he wasn't in charge of that because well, animal names would be awful to say the very least and ferrets didn't need any more help on any front.

Ferrets, as a whole kinda creeped him out. Well not really creeped out it was just the little bastards were smart, very smart, not that he had ever really gotten to interact with one for long, they were illegal in California. His cousin, with a name he could hardly remember for longer then a few seconds as it was now let alone how he was before he got his meds that still made it hard to him to focus on the mundane things like names until later . Back to the ferrets creeping him out though.

It was their eyes simple as that, their creepy little beady eyes that seemed to stare right into his very being as they begged for peanut butter, little tails half cocked in the air as tiny teeth nibbled at his fingers. They wouldn't bite his skinny pale ass. The albino ones were like mini devils, or alphas if he wanted to piss...well he would have to save that one for when ever he meet up with Derek again, if he ever meet up with the sour wolf. Stiles bet if he compared the male to a white ferret because they had red eyes it would get a impressive show of eyebrow movement a glare and a sharp growl of warning.

Hey, winning Derek could no longer threaten to rip his throat out with is teeth for not doing what the werewolf wanted him to. See there was always a silver lining waiting to be seen!

Anyway back to the creep ass ferrets and getting bitten by the, sadly so, tinny little slip of a thing that had a taste for his blood. Okay so maybe getting bitten was slightly his fault, sticking half his hand in the jar of the very stuff they got as a treat then waving his fingers about like a loon, but still little teeth hurt a lot more then he would have thought. It did not give the thing, Panda if he remember half right a barely regular sized ferret , a baby if he remembered right, the right to chomp down on his tender little digits when ever she wanted.

As he said little teethes hurt a lot more then he thought they would and he only got to mess with her for like...thirty minutes and he was traumatized for life.

Though it was cute when they did the "Weasel War Dance" hopping about like him on sugar, little noises of happiness here and there, or when they used their little paws to hold on to his finger as they tried to play. Still creepy though.

But just because they could be kinda cute didn't mean he liked them.

Stiles knew that he shouldn't let his brain run off with out him, a portion was still singing for goodness sake, but the reemergence of different shapes and what now looked like colors gave him a wee bit of lee way. It was how his brain had always operated anyway and there was probably no changing it now that he was here.

Besides a freaking ghost ferret was stalking him or some shit and it was creeping him out.

He was dead, he shouldn't be creeped out anymore...maybe this was going in the "I'm in hell for all the shit I said I would go to hell for," list of things he did to probably deserve this, because this was getting stupid. But so was starting 99 bottles over, there were only so many times he could go through that song and stay sane, maybe Radioactive should be the next song to loop while he let the rest of his brain jump topic to topic.

It made him wonder how other people dealt with their thoughts, was it a neat line or did it bounce from part to part like his did. If it was a neat little line, thoughts coming and going in an orderly fashion it must be kinda boring to just sit there and try and think about one thing instead like twenty. Well for a guy at least, he had read somewhere that a woman's mind was something he never ever wanted to be a part of.

At least his brain was kinda working like the internet with a few to many tabs open so it was lagging a bit, one section was playing music and on another little section of his brain he counted tug/pull sensations, and was about to go crazy because dear lords it was getting as bad as the damn ghost ferret nipping at his heels.

Was it just him or was the stupid thing getting a lot closer then it had been and was more then a oil slick picture to haunt his dreams for the rest of his un-life? Because if so, it was totally not fair at all.

Maybe he should devote brain power to figuring that out because if he had to spend the rest of eternity feeling that then he wanted his money back for what ever started it in the first place. He didn't know what he did to deserve having a little creep following him about in his after life.

Well maybe when he was a kid and convincing Scott that all the seeds he swallowed were going to grow in his stomach during the night, and the resulting terrors that Scott had after that, which lead to a lecture from both his father and Mrs. McCall, was one of the small things on that list of why.

At least the everlasting black was starting to change towards a rather dark grey, a sick looking fog on nightmare juice, because Stiles was sure if he was alive and could feel you know, strain, for all the hard hard work he was doing walking, shuffling now and then included because there came a time when one had to drag their feet damn it, he would be about as winded as pre bite Scott.

Not that he really had much way to tell how far he had actually gone other then that damn song, which he was switching, Radioactive was a good song for only so long maybe he should go for irony with Ring of Fire, but his surroundings were changing.

Slooooowly but still, different and that is all he cared about.

Maybe he should turn back, the black was better then fog. No, no he wouldn't turn back that would bring him closer to revenge of the ferret and he would lose a finger or something to add to his pile of "Not going to think about it, so it's not actually there and he was perfectly whole."

King of denial he was, as long as it wasn't his dad who found him and had a heart attack, Stiles didn't care how he looked. Well, he had always figured he would have a closed casket anyway. It made him wonder if he had been found yet, or if he was rotting and disgusting out in the open.

_Don't you worry dear they will find you when this is all over and I am strong enough, wouldn't want them to see you like this, though red is your color. Once I've bleed you dry..._

Best not to think about that actually, he didn't want to hear that voice...sickly sweet in its promise of death, and the flash of the face that went with it made him want to brave the ferret.

Speaking, or was it thinking since he couldn't actually speak, of the ferret it seemed to have changed into a creepy ass tree trunk, or at least now he just had to deal with the tree, no matter how much it seemed to make that voice whisper in his ear, he just wanted things to be sorta calm. Getting stalked by something that looked like a walking hair ball only longer was not calm. It was the opposite of calm.

_I'm glad I chose you, the nemeton ..._

It was like he had brain pop ups or something because really, he did not want to go there, not in the slightest, going there would be a bad idea in a long, a so very long, line of bad ideas, like Scott and Allison dating in secret and almost getting caught bad idea.

Oh well, he would just have to do what he always did when a pop up scared the hell out of him by suddenly appearing out of no where land and being louder then anything else going on around thus making him jump and squeal ,not like a girl...okay maybe once...or twice...or so. He would close that tab as fast as he could and turn up the music.

For once in Stiles life he had run out of songs to entertain himself with, a big fat blank meet him when he tried to pull up his mental playlist.

Stiles really, really wanted his money back.

Like...really there was always something he could get going up there even if it was a pod cast from Rooster teeth, those guys entertained him many a hour while he was lost down the rabbit hole known as the internet, so maybe this was like, him getting tiered. Because that would make sense, he had started moving the moment he 'woke up' so he was using energy he couldn't really replace anymore with food.

The hell if he was going to sit on the creepy tree in the Silent Hill fog, nothing good could come from that, but he wasn't going to stand there like a character on screen when the player went away from the keyboard for a moment.

He could sit on the ground...there was a ground he had been walking on it for while now so there was no reason he couldn't sit on the ground. Except ghost ferret would find him there and bye bye limbs.

Creepy tree, ferret, creepy tree, ferret, creepy tree with some funky looking roots off to the side, and what looked like a weird moss covering the top, ferret.

Creepy tree for the win! Because ferrets still scared him more.

Maybe he should try and take off his jac...or not because a quick look to the side and at his arms, not down we are not going to look at ourselves there, because now he was referring to himself as we a sure sign if anything he needed a break, that he didn't have it on.

Which kinda made sense he did go down stairs because...

Because he had thought his dad was coming in, and he had left his research , and walked down to talk to him in the kitchen and maybe grab some food because he was starving, but once he made it down there...

Hadn't it been his dads day off?

It must have been because there was two sets of dishes...

But if he had known that his father was already home, why had he gone downstairs?

It had been that noise.

_Little red ridding spark, my what a bright light you have. _

_All the better for me to gobble you right on up._

I would like to state for the record that I own three ferrets and they are adorable balls of fluff...I used one of my friends view of ferrets for this. Also Stiles not being able to talk was a lot harder to do then I thought it would be...anyway I will get back to work on getting the next chapter out...I always post first on AO3 so if I am late here check there =D Ima the same name an' ever'ting.


	4. The trouble with woods

If he had known that the people Scott was going to call in was going to be a group of grumbling teenagers and a very aggravated looking Derek Hale, he would have just told the kid to skip texting.

Two hours, that's how long he had been with the group, everyone was snipping and snarling at each other as they complained about having to look for Stiles, before he spilt off to look in the warehouse district though he did have a tag along in the form of a teenage girl who spent more time looking at her phone then the dilapidated buildings.

Scott and his crew, a grumbling bumbling group of teenagers who were complaining every four seconds, 'Why are we searching, Stiles can find his way back home", or "I think we already looked here." to "There better be pizza in this, I wouldn't spend my day looking for someone otherwise.", had gotten him no where fast.

Actually it got him a headache fast, though at least he knew for sure he wasn't going to be called to the preserve about trespassing because the ever so cheerful Hale was out there searching with Isaac. It almost made him wish he had some blood hounds with him but there was nothing for it other then waiting until tomorrow to file a missing persons.

24 hour window his ass. Sure it had been a bit longer but he had just now noticed and that made something in his chest crinkle up in pain, and it was needless to file paper work in his son because he had wondered off. Again.

Though it did give him time to search for himself before he was pulled from the case, if there even was one, and someone else had to take over. Poor soul. He felt sorry for any tech that was in charge of Stiles computer. He didn't even look through it, but he knew some of the horrors hidden and waiting to scare the hell out of someone.

Unless Scott was going to act on Bro Code #5,_ If I go missing and/or die delete my history and porn collection before someone else gets on my computer. _Not that the Sherriff would ever let that happen, lords knew what was hiding on there but if one of his internet searches held the key to finding his son then so be it.

The amount of shifting needed though was a daunting though even to him, he knew how fast his son blew through websites when he was doing research for what ever had caught his fancy and most the time it was not pretty.

Kinda like the face he was getting right now from a rather perturbed looking teen, Erica Reyes, a girl he didn't even know his son knew let alone hung out with, as she waved her phone slightly towards him.

"Scott says they found nothing in the park."

"Did they go in the library as well?"

"As far as I know buildings were Boyd's, he hasn't texted me anything about finding a trace of Stiles." Her lips, which seemed to be far to red, she needed a little less lipstick in his mind, pursed together. This was going to turn into another grumble about wanting food or wanting to stop looking for Stiles. John could feel it in his bones as he reached up and let a hand rub over the surface of his head.

"What about Hale and Lahey?" This just earned a eye roll from the teenager who held her phone up with two fingers.

"You see this magic box? It will light up and make a noise when ever it gets a message, no light and no noise means no message."

Sarcasm the language of the younger generation it seemed, and John was at about his wits end in dealing with it today. Giving his head another rub he turned it was just his luck that he got stuck with her.

Hell that Martins girl would have been better, she would have at least looked like she was trying to help, she was a lot smarter then she came off as but still there was a window for attention spans at that age and he knew it.

Such as was proven to him not even three minutes latter while they were making they way to yet another building. Ring tones these days were getting on the end of ridiculous and the one Erica had just made his head pound a little bit more.

"Scott wants to regroup and get some food while we talk about where to go next.

"Let me guess, pizza parlor with me paying right?" John asked in a huffing voice as he tried to think of how much of a dent that would put in his wallet. Scott and Stiles could eat enough food for five people and then complain about being hungry five minutes latter he didn't really want to think of how bad this was going to set him back if they all ate like that.

"No, Derek says out at the preserve, and he already put in a order for Chinese, he asked for your usual so, " a eyebrow rose slightly as a rather feral grin spread, "We won't get into trouble with Stiles when he gets back. God knows we hear about it often enough, and if he finds out we helped you slack well there would never be shutting him up."

Chinese...well that sounded like something that could go wrong fast, at least with pizza it was easy to portion it out.

"Why are we all heading to the preserve? Stiles could be somewhere in town."

"Knowing him, he's stuck in a tree or something some where, and Isaac said he might have caught a trace of him. They just want everyone feed so when we go back out we won't be so 'Grumpy' and actually be looking. " and if anything it proved to John how weird his son was, because he had expected finger quotes around the word grumpy.

Not that he was going to admit it, but he was kinda glad that they were leaving this part of town, it gave him hives. Erica, for all her unwillingness to actually come out this way, was already making her way swiftly to the patrol car, it seemed the promise of food had put a spring in her step once more.

Though he wasn't too found of the preserve, the drive there was calm, save for the consent clicking of buttons from Erica's side of the car, her eyebrows drawn together as she typed away.

If he didn't think his son was just passed out somewhere from a epic crash this whole thing would be grating on his last nerve. But Scott and his, insistence that he could just feel it in his bones, that Stiles was just sorta lost somewhere waiting for them to find him!

John would know, he would know if there was something truly wrong. He would fell it in his bones, the heaviness he had felt when his wife was slowly passing away from him moment by moment. Something bright and vibrate taken down to something grey and sad, hardly a shadow of what she once was, because her own body was betraying her and dragging her ever farther down.

His screwball son was the brightest thing in his life, the best thing he had ever done, and he would feel that light being taken away damn it.

All John wanted was for his son to stroll into the house and crack a terrible joke about why he was gone, probably something about following a balloon for a while before finding butterflies, before trying to wave a epic tale as to why he was gone. All he wanted was to go home and see him asleep on the couch, arms strewn about and back twisted in a way that would keep everyone else from sleeping so soundly.

What he got was a pack of kids, huddled over a very impressive amount of food quickly putting it away and hardly leaving any behind while sitting on the ground. John had thought that his usual two were bad and he had been right to fear for his wallet at the thought of buying pizza for this lot.

The silence in this clearing was a little deafening, he was use to more chatter amongst teens so it was making his hackles raise. The only sound he could pick up was the scrapping of forks against styrofoam.

He picked at his own food, steamed rice and some chicken, a smug looking Derek watched him from his huddle of noodles and curry, which prompted him to actually take a bigger bite of his food. If he was too tired and hungry by time they tracked his son down then he would be no good.

"Did you get anything at the house Scott?" The sudden noise almost made John drop his food, tightening his grip he waited. He hadn't known that Scott was going by, and the teen who had a mouth full of food shock his head briefly while trying to swallow.

"Nope, just the usual." John resisted the urge to let his face crumple into confusion, Scott just kept piling food in his mouth at a alarming rate. "His books were all there and he had some searches up but its was just about some Celtic Goddess or another and cats."

"Boyd?"

"He hasn't left his house in at least four days," short and sweet, Derek just nodded like that was all he needed to know.

"Erica?" the teen just sighed from her place beside Boyd, eyes rolling slightly earning a scowl of impressive power.

"Since, you know Stiles can't even stay at home with out getting it wrong, he hasn't been anywhere in the where houses voluntarily or not, the smell of those places. " she shot Isaac a look, he was huddled close to Scott his own arrangement of food thinning out into almost nothing. "Not everyone got to frolic in the woods. "

"The woods aren't all that nice either, they smell."

"Like woods dumb ass, you wouldn't be able to find your nose if it wasn't on your face."

"Nah he's right there's a different...something, kinda bright ya know?" Scott asked waving his hand around slightly earning another eye roll from the only female present. John just blinked slowly before glancing over to Derek who looked like he was fighting off a massive headache.

Teenagers were never easy to handle even on a good day, and this bunch seemed to get along as well as rival schools only with less snipping and more just ignoring the other existed. There was a divide that was pretty clear to his eyes and he had only been watching them all together for a couple hours.

"Deaton?"

"Zilch."

John hated being confused, he also hated being left out of things and he knew that is what Stiles had been doing to him all these months. The picture he was painting in his head wasn't very pretty though, not when it involved a 23 year old and a group of teens at his beck and call.

Stiles was too stubborn to listen to anyone like that though, and would be more trouble then he was worth, and if Derek Hale was stupid enough to try and form a gang, in Beacon Hills of all places, then he was doing a good job at keeping what ever illegal dealings he was doing, besides being accused of murder, on the down low.

That rumbling growl was pretty low too, as the male finished eating what food was in front of him before standing in one smooth motion, what ever it was that Deaton , and really a vet was that even really necessary, was supposedly doing and not getting anything for was enough to make him agitated.

Maybe he was the doc on the side from them or something?

"Finish eating then, we still have day light to search," eyes slid over to him "How long until he starts having withdraws?"

"Probably already started unless he took his pills with him, I forgot to check his room for them before I left. " John set his food container down on the ground standing with a little effort, at least Derek seemed to know how bad the withdraws could get.

He knew his son sometimes ended up popping more pills then he should, his mind racing away from him and Stiles was on day three with no sleep sitting in front of his computer when this all started. John had almost tried to sneak a monster into his sons room in the hopes it would make him crash faster.

"He's probably crashed hard already." Scott nodded, his mouth for once free of food. It had been a while since he saw that kid with out food in his reach. His grubby paws getting a hold of anything not nailed down.

"Scott you are with me and the Sherriff, Isaac check the west end, Erica circle back to the loft and make sure he hasn't wondered in there to sleep, Boyd" Derek just jerked his head slightly, and amazingly the other male knew what he was talking about, because John didn't have a clue.

Erica just flicked a irritated look towards Derek before getting up, and Isaac just bounced up like a puppy. That kid was way too emotional looking just standing there, hell John was sure he was the only one other then Scott to be torn up about this whole ordeal.

Scott just looked annoyed that he had to walk with Derek and the other male just gave a too sharp smile, before he started walking. John figured this was how the rest of his day was going to go, trailing after a mostly silent sarcastic ass who thought he could lead the way.

It almost made John want to remind the other male that he did indeed have a gun.

Well...not on him at the moment, but still it was the principle of the thing, there was no way he was going to get bossed around by someone who was half his age, even if all the guy was doing was walking, and oddly enough sniffing? Maybe he had allergies.

"Stiles is never going to be able to live this down. "

"When he has kids I will share this tale many times over. " Derek snorted and John just gave him a look, "What?"

"Stiles reproducing scares me."

John had to give him that one, one Stiles was more then enough for the world as it was, and no matter how many grays he gave him, John still loved that brat with all his heart.

Scott, who would now and again check his phone, was now frowning about the woods as they walked his eyes narrowing periodically before nose would twitch, seeing an opportunity to see what else was going on John slid over a little closer to look over the teens shoulder to try and see the messages now and then.

_...said that she woke up screaming,remember to keep trying... _

The screen went black before he could finish reading the text before Scott slid his fingers over the screen in quick swipes.

_We hve bn, its why we arent panking, Stiles is jst crshed out._

God that kid needed to learn how to spell while texting, it was almost as bad as chat speak that Stiles had become enamored with, going as far as to write all his notes as such, before he discovered short hand.

He wondered who woke up screaming, it seemed most the kids Stiles ages were having a hard time sleeping.

Derek, who John had to admit he had lost track of for a moment was stopped at a path line slightly ahead of were they were walking, crouched down with his fingers splayed over the dirt and leaves.

"Find anything?" John asked as they pulled up closer, Scott was already kneeling down as well eyes fixed on what ever was holding the older males attention, which John now saw was a slightly smudged boot print, and half a heal from another foot that looked like it had been dragged through the leaf litter.

"Looks like we are headed the right way, Stiles was dragging his feet, it looks like someone may have found him and helped him walk somewhere safer. " Derek stood quickly brushing the dirt off his hands, eyebrows drawn together in a rather impressive scowl. Scott just whipped his head around from side to side, as if his quick looks could find the rest of the trail.

John just waited for the two to pick a way to go before following after them, for the first time since yesterday he had a block of ice sitting in his gut.

He had been to plenty of crime scenes where there were prints like that, mostly in blood or mud, softer and easier to disrupt as one was forced along. Derek seemed to have a good eye for searching because it was only a few steps away that they found more and Johns heart lurched.

He didn't want to find his son at a crime scene.

"I think there is a clearing a little farther up, "Scott said suddenly, his already long strides lengthened and Derek nodded jogging ahead. He didn't know why the two were suddenly moving faster, a small breeze shifting had made both of their faces crumple slightly before hardening.

Scott looked devastated, his eyes big and watery as he stood in place seemingly fine with letting Derek go on ahead with out him.

"Keep the Sherriff back." the growled out order came as soon as the dark haired male exited into the clearing and Scotts arms became bands of steel around his shoulders as Derek walked closer to the tree stump he could practically see, the entire line of his body was tense.

"Scott, let me go I want to go see what he's looking at," John tried to squirm out of the teens grip, "Scott!"

"Sherriff...I'm not letting you go into that clearing,"

"Why the hell not! You've let me traipse through the forest just fine until now," John twisted to try and see the teens face but the arms just tightened before they started to drag him back further away. He could still see Derek, the male was crouching down eyes straight forwards and he was afraid to think.

What the hell was Hale looking at and where did he get off not letting him see!

Giving up on twisting out of Scotts hold, he did the only thing he could think off, which while painful the teen could live with, and brought his elbow down into a strike. The chocked off groan was enough warning for him to break away and John sprinted towards the clearing, rounding a set of trees that had blocked his view before sliding to a stop.

Derek stood, eyes that had moments before seemed to be shimmering red looking down before he moved closer to John.

John just let his body collapse into the ground legs giving out as the smell of steak that had been sitting out in the hot sun hit his nose, eyes staring at the tuff of hair he knew so well.

There was no mistaking it for his son sleeping, his head was titled back to far and the paper white skin that he could see was far to pale to belong to someone living.

All the light in his world had been ripped away, and he hadn't known...John hadn't known that someone had stolen that from him, none of the teens he had been with today or Hale had known.

This wasn't right...maybe...

"Call the others, tell them," Derek paused and John belatedly realized that Scott had a hand on his shoulder, tense but holding him like an anchor. keeping him from the waves that threatened to pull him down and under.

Derek's hand replaced Scotts, John hadn't really noticed when Derek had moved away from the other side of the stump, his free hand already pulling out his cell. As the Sherriff, John should be the one making this call, but he couldn't, all he could do was stare blankly ahead not able to move closer.

Not even as a loud and mournful howl ripped through the air behind him making him flinch, the fingers on his shoulder tightening slightly before relaxing as he did, not even the canopy of howls answering made him move again.

John didn't think there was any point. They had found his son, but he wasn't going to be coming home with him, he wasn't going to be waiting for him to eat real bacon and gripe at him. Stiles was...Stiles was...

_Gone._

The next chapter will b_e _up in a little while, like maybe a week. Also anyone reading and who would love to make my day, I am hunting for a good Criminal Minds Teen Wolf crossover, I would write one but...well it wouldn't turn out well is all.


	5. trace it back

_Don't you worry, this isn't going to hurt, just a few little cuts here and there and we will be all done. Was it your guts or your heart? Either way they are awfully pretty. I'm sure that must be the reason the wolves like you so. _

It hadn't hurt, the only thing he could feel was the rough bite of what ever was holding him in place, digging into the tender flesh of his wrist, the cold drag of metal across his skin and the heavy fog in his mind that made everything fuzzy.

_Stiles, it is Stiles you go by right? Don't you want to see what they are going to find? I'm leaving them a lovely surprise, a pretty little present with a bow and everything._

He didn't want to see, he didn't want to see what was causing that sick wet sound or the tugging sensation in his stomach, he didn't want to see where its hands were vivid and red from his blood.

He didn't want to see what was going to break his father.

_They will find you I promise, maybe not today or tomorrow...or the day after but eventually they will. Like I said they will find you once I am strong enough._

_The question is, how long will it take them to notice you are gone?_

Stiles knew he was drifting away from the pack, and from Scott, they just needed him sometimes and he got in the way other times. He knew it was a way to try and protect him, they may not like him but they would protect him even if it was from himself.

They would know, they would know something was wrong.

_You use you're voice as a weapon, for yourself and that pack of yours, I think it should be quite so easy for you. Oh hush now don't try and talk it won't do any good._

He didn't want to think about this! He didn't want to think about the struggle it became to breathe after yet another cold drag of metal.

_Now now, don't spit at me that's very..._

_...iles, we're having fun aren't w..._

No they hadn't been having fun, not in the least.

_...utiful, all that's left is to..._

_...can you hear me Stiles?_

He remembered...he remembered everything fading in and out, the fog getting heavier and heavier each time he tried to fight to the surface only to be pulled back down deeper each time. The light was getting so far away.

_...its almost time._

He hated this. Hated that his mind was unable to process what was going on, hated that he was dying and there was nothing he could do to save himself.

_ **Stiles!** _

His eyes snapped open, he hadn't even realized that they had closed , and he leaned weakly on the stump, the aguish of that voice broke his heart.

Lydia, she had some how reached him with her voice, and it had been her voice that woke him in this place, she knew on some level that he was gone. It had been her voice, that had lead him out of the darkness to this place.

Eyes unfocused and almost unseeing, gazed over at the twisted roots his body unable to carry him over, he already knew what was sitting there now. He could see the familiar shape and he knew he didn't want to see.

This place, while better then the choking oil slick that threatened to eat him whole, was taunting him with himself.

No one should have to see their own corpse.

Stiles legs wavered again so he simply turned and sat, his back to the horror , and looked out on his surroundings.

Figures he would be used as a ritual sacrifice, just because he was the Spark! Fat lot of good that did him, and fat lot of good it would do for that psycho, he hadn't been able to even light a candle with his mind let alone anything else.

Deaton was wrong about him, the training hadn't done much but let him cast a faster circle of mountain ash faster.

Hell Lydia was better at magic then he was simply because she could actually read the books.

That fucking ferret was back.

Sighing, Stiles brought his legs up and brought the heel of his hands up to his eyes trying to burry them there as he blocked out the world. He was dead, not just kinda dead but, 'I just had my guts ripped out and my throat slashed by a fucking psycho like this was some kind of bad TV show' dead.

It was actually kind of hard to think of ones self as dead, like really hard. It was also weird, to know that he was sitting on the ghost version of the place where he died, with a ghostly shell of his body on the other side mocking him like the ghost ferret stalking him.

He almost wished that Derek was here, almost, not in the dead kind of way, just in the it would be nice to have someone who could be a sarcastic ass with him with a deadpan humor to keep him from going crazy kind of way.

Scott would just cry about being dead, then cry about Allison and him never getting back together. He would cry for his mother, and his father, who were losing their child, and he would cry for Stiles.

But Stiles couldn't cry for anyone, let alone his self, because all his tears dried up so long ago, and he couldn't even really mourn the fact that it would probably be the pack that found him, and then hide his body and made it look like he ran off chasing the clouds so the Sherriff never knew his son had been ripped apart.

He hoped his father didn't see him.

Maybe Derek would bury him by his old house, or by a nice tree...no nice tree, maybe a hill.

He wondered if Erica and Boyd would miss him, Isaac would cry, he was a puppy at heart and he would take care of Scott for him.

His dad would be in bad shape for a while if he wasn't with them when he was found, he would throw a lot of man power into searching for him and he would neglect his health, but hoped his dad wasn't there.

Stiles didn't want to be the reason his father turned back to the bottle heavily, didn't want to give him more nightmares to join the ones already there.

Stiles also hoped that Scott upheld the Bro code. There was some shit on his computer his dad didn't need to know about.

Maybe the pack would keep an eye out on him, keep him safe from all the things that often went bump in the night. Hopefully they would do a bit of a better job this time.

Blinking slowly, Stiles resisted the urge to try and take a deep breath, it would do him no good and he was pretty sure he would feel weird little flaps of skin, not on his list of things to do and might still be able to make him feel sick to his stomach, and watched the fog.

He hoped that there would be no more flash backs to that crazy disfigured thing that had taken him. Plus he had to be on watch for the damn ferret, at least the moths hadn't followed him.

If he sat here long enough he could ignore the elephant in the room, so to say, and just entertain himself for the rest of his existence in the land that could be Silent Hill with out the creepy as monsters that were sometimes really hard to kill in game, and maybe play 999 bottles of beer on the wall a few hundred times.

Oh joy.

He wanted some curly fries.

Those would be nice, with some nacho cheese to the side, and maybe a pizza.

Oh and one of those milkshakes so thick from the dinner they had to sit for a little while before you could actually get them through the straw. Chocolate, no maybe strawberry, strawberry with chocolate, and another side of curly fries.

Stiles didn't know why he was tormenting himself with food because he didn't even have guts anymore let alone a place to go get them, it would be hard to digest stuff either way.

That damn tugging was getting more hectic, almost like a mom pulling on a leash that they put on their kid at the store so they didn't run off, and it seemed to be coming from different directions now, and if he didn't know better he would say that it was the pack using the 'bound' that he couldn't even fully form.

Deaton had described it as a way for all the pack members to know where each other were, and know a general state of being.

Figures it would work better when he was you know, dead and couldn't really do much in way of just being there for all the creep wolfs to monitor.

Though maybe he could screw with them and try and tug back, but that was just mean.

Stiles was going to have to do something about the scrambling sensation, it felt like greedy hands trying to reach into a dark pantry to try and grab food only they didn't know where it was hiding and didn't want to turn the light on.

He was not a package of Oreo's damn it.

Though he could settle for being Doritos, those things were addictively good.

The last pull, had been different though, more controlled and more forceful, almost like a demand, meaning someone had left Scott in charge of checking the bonds and Derek had just gotten pissed enough to pull himself.

Either that or they just found his body and they couldn't believe that he was actually dead, while sweet was really sad.

There really was no coming back from this. Not that there was a way to come back unless you were the creeptastic Peter Hale who had the market for the bad touch uncle of the group. They still didn't know how he managed it, he probably would never know, but he knew for sure he didn't have any fancy tricks hiding up his non sleeves.

Back to the pulling though, before his brain ran off with him on what ever direction it was going to head next, it was kinda like weaving in between lanes on the highway not knowing what exit to take, they were driving him insane.

It went thought, tug, thought, tug, tug, tug, tug, PULL, tug. Who ever died next in the pack and ended up here with him was going to get bitch slapped with his imaginary rowan baseball bat he didn't have with him.

He didn't know if anyone was ever going to join him here or if it was always going to be him and the ghost ferret he had just lost track of again, but he would find a way to bitch slap someone for this.

Seriously just a swift smack to the head with a bat that would solve his frustration that was slowly building. There was nothing that was going to keep him from hitting the next person/wolf/thing he saw.

That decided Stiles decided to entertain himself, and or get himself out of the denial stage of this whole death thing, and get to the poke it with a stick stage. Also known as he finally looked down at his stomach area, it was strangely hollow there and there were gross flaps of skin and muscle.

Seeing your own insides, even if some were missing, was a weird and rather disturbing experience all together.

Which is when something landed behind him, it took everything in his power not to jump out of his skin, almost literally because in some places it was already pretty lose and flappy, he did what any sane person would do.

He jumped up, mouth open and if he would have had a voice he would have screamed in a manly manner, he would not have squeaked like a little girl thank you very much, and flapped his hands around wildly.

Coal black eyes stared at him, and Stiles would be damned if the crow was creepier then the damn ghost ferret. Eyes darting to the side, while he tried to calm himself, it was hard to tell if he was calming because there wasn't a thundering heart beat to listen to after all, and he caught sight of another crow, hopping along the ground by the knotted roots he was avoiding.

Just because he could look down now, didn't mean he wanted to go over there, even if it was to keep some stupid bird away from himself.

Though now that he thought about it, it was weird that they were even here where he could actually see their form all the way. Even ghost ferret was wispy more often then not, and there was no way of telling how solid the creepy moths were back where he started.

A cawing noise startled him out of his thoughts, so it was just him that couldn't make noise, great his biggest weapon gone.

But that is what that creature intended anyway.

The bird closest to him, tilted its head slightly before hopping slightly closer, yet again cawing , and all Stiles could do was watch.

Its not like waving his hands around like a loon would do anything, the bird would just look at him like he was crazy then, hell he would look at himself like he was crazy, and he couldn't shout what because he had no voice, not that the bird would answer him anyway.

It was fitting that crows found him though, the little death omens they usually were, there were several cultures that believed that the crow could lead the dead to where they needed to be or warn someone of upcoming doom.

Maybe they were his ticket out of this creepy empty place. Maybe just maybe, they were creepy though and there wasn't really much that would make him get closer to them anytime soon, messengers of the dead or no.

Stiles wondered idly if there were actually crows at his body, picking at the pieces and flying away, if that's how he was found, by following the circling birds that were feasting on him like thanksgiving dinner.

That was kind of a gross thought, he should probably stay away from those for the time being.

All the same he wasn't going to just to stand here, but he also wasn't going to sit to close either, it was kinda a lose, lose situation because there was nothing he could really do but stare into beady eyes that were wide and dark.

After a while of sitting there Stiles, eyes locked and hardly moving away, decided to try and move to the side to see if the bird, crow his brain automatically corrected, would follow.

Okay so the head tilt thing was kinda creepy.

Stiles was in dire need of something not creepy right now because he seemed to be surrounded by every thing that made his internal warning bell go off like a fire alarm, and not in the 'I just ate liquid fire quick get me some milk' kind of way.

Maybe he should try moving away from here, move onto another section of this weird place. Maybe it would be a good thing to get away from this tree and what was hiding there.

If anything all that could happen was for him to circle back here, and it wasn't like he didn't have time to do what ever he wanted.

He had all the time he could ever wish for after all.

Notes:

Sorry this took so long, this time of year is hard for me and I found out that a good friend of mine has lung cancer, which just makes it even harder. The next chapter will be out sometime soonish, once I drink myself into a stupor and recover that is. Sorry again I hope all of you guys enjoy.


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